Volunteering at Ironman Louisville 2010

This past weekend two of us volunteered to help out at Ironman Louisville. As expected, it was an inspiring experience. Athletes ranged from superhuman professionals to mere mortals. All were fun to watch.

We worked a five-hour shift in the transition area, outside of the changing tents, and saw people returning from the bike. As each athlete returned, they went into one of the two changing tents, did their thing, and took off for the run. Our job was to offer sunscreen as they exited the tents. Sheets of plastic were spread out on tables, lots of sunscreen was poured out onto the plastic, and we covered our gloved palms in the stuff. As athletes exited, they were offered a generous slather of sunscreen, usually with 2 or 3 volunteers per athlete.

The professionals were on a mission and didn't have time for such nonsense, but we got much more busy as the age-groupers came in. As most of the slatherers were female, the men had a good time with it. Some just stood there moaning and asking if they had to go do the run. One guy came staggering out of the tent, stretching, blinking, and yawning like he had just awakened. He was hilarious.

Watching the professionals come in filled all of us with awe. These people  were running into transition as if they had just begun their morning jog; you never would have guessed they had just climbed off 112 miles' worth of bike. Transition took them all of a minute, and they left for the run as easily as they came in. The man that won, Paul Ambrose, did the entire 140.6 miles in 8:20. Damn. It takes me 7 hours to do half that distance!

By the time our shift was over, the heat was in full force. It peaked in the mid-nineties, with relatively high humidity. There was a steady stream of people coming in from the bike and calling it a day. They just couldn't handle the heat. The medical tent was also quite busy, with occasional trips to the hospital and constantly full cots.

Around 14 hours into the race (9pm), we wandered over to the finish line and watched for a while. Folks coming in looked pretty darned good, all looked happy to finish, and most didn't seem to be suffering too terribly. We hung out for a while, left for dinner, and came back at 11 to watch the last "official" hour of the race. (Participants have 17 hours to finish; after that, no medal, no official time.) That hour went by FAST. The crowd was fantastic, making all kinds of noise and cheering everyone who came along. The announcer did a great job of acknowledging everyone by name, and saying, "John Doe, you are an Ironman!" as they crossed the finish.

Again, the vast majority of people looked pretty darned good! It was impressive how many were able to sprint it in. There were a few "Ironman shuffles", which is just sad. All stooped over, unable to move their feet at more than a shuffle, but finishing the race anyway. It got very stressful as 17:00:00 edged nearer and nearer, and people were coming in but moving slower and slower. Some, sadly, didn't make the cutoff. It was heartbreaking to see people working SO hard to cover that last 50 yards, and just unable to do it fast enough. One poor guy had a leg/butt cheek that was totally cramped up on him, and he was stiff-legging it as fast as he could, but he didn't make it. We concluded it might just be less heartbreaking to be pulled off the course early, like after the bike cutoff, than to get that close and watch the clock ticking away your deadline. Aaaargh.

The run course has a very cruel twist: around the halfway mark, it comes within a block of the finish. The first time through you have to watch people finishing, then make a hard right away from it, out for another 12-13 miles. Here is where we found a guy hugging a mailbox, trying to get his body under control. I walked up to him and said, "You've got this," and he said, "No, I still have 13 to go. I'm pulling out." This was with 2.5 hours left. Apparently he was so seized up that he didn't think he could even shuffle that last half-marathon. Poor bastard was near tears, he was so frustrated.

By 17:05:00, the timing mats had been taken up and the finish line was being dismantled. We roamed the area a bit, helped pick up some trash, then headed back to the hotel, one block before the finish area. By now it was around 20-25 minutes after the cutoff. In front of the hotel, we noticed a woman standing in the road who looked like she was still waiting for someone. We had just stepped into the lobby when a commotion started outside, so we went back out to see. An older woman (over 60), was shuffling by, finishing the race no matter what. She was bent over and couldn't pick up her feet, but by God she was doing the distance. Damn. Those of us who were still outside cheered her on, but this was not who the spectator was waiting for. By now, the finish arch/timer was gone, the area was dark and quiet, medical people were gone, and street crews were dismantling the chute. We don't know how long people continued to straggle in. They didn't get medals or official times, but they're still Ironmen.

Some finish line pics are posted here...at the back of the album.
http://indyhappel.myphotoalbum.com/view_album.php?set_albumName=album10